Closed
by illyrilex
Summary: One-shot: King's closing shift at Illusion takes an unexpected turn.


**This takes place within the same timeline I've established in my other fics (specifically it takes place after Oxygen to Breathe), but you won't have to read those to "get" this.**

 **Anyway, a single, random thought while playing KOF '98 spawned this whole thing. I'll tell you what it was later. Also, I will write stories about King until I fucking die.**

 **Oh, and don't picture her in a tux this time. Traditional neck tie, vest, and slacks for this one. Think SFV Cody, because women rock that look harder than men. Fight me.**

 **Onward~!**

* * *

It was just after two in the morning on Halloween when a bartender who went only by the alias "King" leaned back against the locked door of her establishment, Illusion, and loosened her neck tie. Devil's Night had been incredibly busy - busier than usual, even - despite falling on a weeknight. The heavy volume of people had been astounding; they had been _everywhere_ , some dressed in simple costumes, all seemingly intent on the same thing: getting shitfaced. King loved all things Halloween, and she loved her job, but she felt so _incredibly_ tired. She was thankful that the bar was finally closed, though her shift was far from over.

King surveyed the area, which was almost eerily illuminated by nothing but the orange string lights over the counter, and pressed her lips together. The place was, simply put, a mess: Empty beer bottles, cans, and shot glasses sat on various surfaces, the floor was littered with crumpled up napkins and pumpkin shaped confetti, and, for some reason, there was a fine dusting of glitter all over the pool table. Normally King would have been outright pissed off about the disarray, but she had knocked back a few drinks during the course of her shift: She was _pretty_ confident that she wasn't drunk, but she definitely had a good buzz going. Illusion looked horrible, but it was all okay because alcohol. She double checked the locks on the door before heading behind the counter. She grabbed a large trash bag, turned up the volume on the stereo, and started collecting the bottles and cans in the vicinity, all the while bobbing her head and humming along (off key) to the song that was playing.

"Boss?"

King looked up: One of her employees, a bartender named Sally, stuck her head out of the back office.

"Deposit's done!"  
"Thanks," King said with a grateful smile. She stopped picking up the recyclables and watched Sally, who was leaning very heavily on the door frame. The witch hat headband she had worn all night (to be more festive, of course) was askew, and she had a strange expression on her face.

"People are _slobs_!"

Sally's words were a little slurred. She flipped a light switch, illuminating the bar in warm light, before jovially strolling toward the counter; her heels clicked loudly against the wooden floor, and her gait was slightly unsteady. King frowned: She remembered seeing Sally take a shot or two with a patron to celebrate, but she wasn't the type to get drunk on the clock. How did she get so fucked up in the first place? And how many mistakes would have to be corrected on the paperwork?

"Hey... are you okay?" King asked as she began cleaning up once more.  
"I'm _great_!" Sally replied. She enthusiastically picked up a nearby broom and started sweeping the floor. "I"m A-OK! How about you, Boss? Are _you_ okay? How are _you_?!"

King couldn't help chuckling. Even full of liquor Sally was more concerned about other people than herself. It was adorable, really.

"I'm a little tired," King admitted. She placed the half full trash bag down and lowered herself into a nearby chair. "I'm still not sleeping that well."  
"Whaaat?" Sally stopped sweeping so she could lean on the broom. "No way!"  
"Way."

King took a deep breath. What she didn't tell Sally was that her months-long lethargy was the direct result of nightmares that were so bad they made her cry in her sleep. They were becoming less frequent, but when she did have them it was enough to fuck up her slumber for days.

"Maybe you just need to relax?" Sally suggested while she removed her headband.  
"I don't think it's that simple."

Spoilers: It wasn't.

"Oh, Boss. It's easy! Watch."

Sally walked up behind King and placed her hands on her shoulders. King flinched; her breathing quickened and she swallowed hard. The feel of someone else's hands on her - particularly anywhere near her neck - had the potential to trigger one hell of an anxiety attack. She stiffened up as Sally began to knead the tight muscles in her shoulders.

"Wow, you're _super_ tense!" Sally was clearly amazed.  
"Yeah, well… I… ow."

King exhaled sharply as Sally continued to rub her. It took a minute or two but her shoulders finally sagged; she leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. She didn't know what the hell Sally was doing, but it felt amazing.

"You're working too hard, Boss," Sally remarked.  
"You're probably right," King sighed, her eyes still closed.  
"You need to _relax_ …!"

With that, Sally slowly began to bring her hands down King's front, toward her chest.

"What?!"

King flushed a violent shade of scarlet as she quickly jumped to her feet. She whirled around to face Sally, who was _very_ close to her - so close she could see random flecks of hazel scattered near her pupils - and why was she that close to begin with and _why_ had she done that and _why_ -

Before King could even process what was happening Sally closed the distance between them by kissing her right on the lips. Suddenly Sally's tongue was in her mouth and she tasted like Kahlua and bubble gum and King couldn't remember the last time she had been kissed like that and before she knew it she was kissing Sally back, which was a _terrible_ idea because this was _Sally_ , but it was kind of a reflex and she couldn't help it and she wasn't used to this - _especially_ not anymore - and she didn't know what the hell to do with her hands but it wasn't like it mattered because all at once she was on her back on the table and something - it felt like a shot glass - was wedged between her and the hard surface and it hurt like hell but that didn't matter because Sally was on top of her, still kissing her, clumsily working to unbutton her vest.

"S-sal," King uttered as she pulled away. "What…?!"  
"Be quiet," Sally commanded her. She undid the top button of King's vest and kissed her again as she worked at the second. Meanwhile, King's mind was absolutely racing: Sally had never shown any interest in other women - and definitely not King - nor was she even the aggressive type. But here she was, making out with her and probably maybe even trying to fuck her on a table in the middle of the bar while Jarvis Cocker sang about death and discos in the background.

King's heart rate skyrocketed as Sally finally unclasped the last button. This was wrong, and odd, and _holy_ _shit_ , her hand was fondling King's breast, and she was tugging her shirt up out of her pants and this was _intensely_ wrong but it actually felt good, and King never thought she would feel anything _remotely_ like this again after... _that._ She abruptly came to her senses at the same time Sally pulled away and planted a kiss on her neck - which was absolutely fucking off limits. King quickly placed her hands on Sally's arms and pushed her away as she bolted upright, practically flinging the other woman off of her.

"Oh god," King gulped, wide eyed, as she put a hand up to her throat. "Oh, shit…! I'm your boss…!"  
"But -"  
"I'm your _boss_!" King repeated, a little louder and a lot more panicked.  
"If that's the issue then I quit," Sally told her breathlessly while shrugging out of her jacket.

King put a hand up to stop Sally from coming close to her again.

"You're drunk, I'm not - not entirely, anyway - and you're not even…! Why did you -?!"  
"I don't know," Sally replied, her eyes on the floor. "It seemed like it would be fun. And you've been so high strung, so I thought that maybe you could use a little… release."  
"'High strung?!' 'Release?!' Are you kidding me?!"  
"You seemed kind of in to it," Sally muttered, wounded.

King pressed her lips together and squeezed her eyes shut as the beginnings of a stress headache began to set in. Sally was right: for one mad second she _was_ kind of in to it, but it was improper on so many levels.

"I'm sorry," Sally spoke up after a moment. "You're right - I am _very_ drunk, and that was _very_ unprofessional. I understand if you want to let me go."  
"Let you go?" King brought herself to her feet and began tucking her shirt back in. "I'm not going to fire you for this…"  
"You're not…?"  
"Look. It's late, and we've both had too much to drink. I'll call your sister to come get you. In the meantime, please finish sweeping."

Sally nodded. She quietly picked up the broom and set to work. Meanwhile, King pulled her phone out of her pocket and sighed as she placed the call to Elizabeth.

###

It was nearly four when King was finally in her bed for the night. She stared up toward the ceiling and lazily stroked her cat, Marron, who was draped across her chest, while she thought about what happened between her and Sally at the bar. It was the first sexual contact she had had with anyone since... _that_ , and it was severely messing with her head. Her therapist would probably say that she made some kind of breakthrough: she didn't freeze (not entirely, anyway), she didn't end up in hysterical tears, and she didn't punch Sally in the face. Those probably were good things, but the fact of the matter was that King had spent months thinking that she would never, ever do that sort of thing with anyone ever again - and especially not with one of her goddamn employees.

King had a feeling that she was going to have yet another sleepless night, not because of the horrible memories her subconscious had a tendency to dredge up, but because she had a lot to think about. She gently moved the cat off of her chest and bunched her pillow up under her head as she turned on her side: Her mood abruptly switched from uncertain to grumpy. She may have even been outright angry - she wasn't sure. Nevertheless, she took a deep breath and shut her eyes.

"Ça craint, Marron…!"

* * *

 _Notes:_

 _*Okay, that single thought I had was, "King is totally fucking this bartender, or at the very least has made out with her" LOL I realize that Sally and Elizabeth are twins, so it could be either one of them seen with her in her intros and win poses but whatever._

 _*King = raging bisexual. Sally = very drunk and a little confused._

 _*Illusion's hours are 2PM to 2AM._

 _*The orange string lights are actually kept up all year because King is kind of weird like that._

 _*The song playing while the ladies are making out is Death Goes to the Disco by the band Pulp. (Jarvis Cocker is the lead singer.)_

 _*King's neck, for anyone who's new here, or is in the back: In Much Like Suffocating her attacker chokes her repeatedly, hence her anxiety. There might be another reason the area is off limits, but I'll let you figure it out._

 _*In the last chapter of Oxygen to Breathe King decides to seek therapy, so, obviously, she's still going so she can work out her issues_

 _*Ça craint = this sucks_

 _*This doesn't impact anything at all but "marron" means "brown" in French so it's safe to assume that Marron is a brown tabby. Achievement unlocked._

 _As always, thank you so much for reading and reviewing! Cheers!_


End file.
